Chapter 20: The Voice of the Ring

 People hurried to and fro in the dim evening light, each set on whatever duties or homeward trips they were going about. No one took note of a dark, ragged figure creeping along, sticking close to the wall. At least, he hoped no one had noticed him, his ego had been bruised enough lately; it was more than likely that plenty of people had seen him and knew just who he was and didn't want to say anything.

Just as long as no one did say anything to Gollum, he would not bother about the reason. He had been spoken to enough- his talk with Bilbo Baggins was occupying his mind even two days later. What a world this was, with people in it who could fear someone, want to stab the foul thing and put its eyes out- and then be kind to him. Be kind, and have pity, for a monster with no sign of kindness or pity anywhere in him.

There were plenty of other things he had to dwell on, such as the way Bilbo had gone and written down everything and now it was a legend and fireside tale- it was one thing to find that Merry and Pippin knew him by reputation, and quite another to see it all for himself laid out in Bilbo's attractive handwriting. There was the fact that someone he had been certain was a thief and a cheat was giving many indications of being the nicest and most well-mannered hobbit alive. And there were the implications- people really could mean well for Gollum, truly wish well for him, even if they appeared to hate him. Even if they did hate him. Which meant Aragorn might have been sincere the whole time, too, and Faramir as well, and thundering Gandalf and even crotchey old Sam might have meant well the whole time.

It was difficult to shake the impression that Gollum might be the only wicked person in the world, whatever Bilbo had said.

A few nights ago some of them jumped me in an alley and tried to plunder the poor few pebbles in Sméagol's pockets, he reminded himself to no avail. Right here in this city, and I wasn't doing no harm. They kicked me around. I, I was kept in a little box in the Shadow-Lands and they only took me out to hurt me. Hadn't done nothing to them either.

He whined in his throat like a dog and licked at his fingers and wondered if maybe, just maybe, he'd deserved it. He decided he had thought enough for the time being and went back to the occupation of sniffing about in the grass, and prodding in the dirt, and looking up to watch any passers-by, noting if they bowed to each other, or nodded, or spoke phrases of greeting- sometimes he repeated the gesture himself, in a timid, restrained manner, to try to memorize it for later in case he came upon someone who expected him to know it.

Everything smelled nice and fresh after a rain. It was an unseasonably cool night, and when no one was about Gollum risked putting his hood down for a moment to feel the caress of the breeze on his thin tired face.

One of the times when he noticed an approaching Man and ducked into the shadows, he realized it was Eardwulf. Gollum gave a guilty little start and scurried forward, and met up with his keeper nearly on the threshold of the door.

Eardwulf either had not seen him or was politely pretending that he hadn't. Gollum reached up and tugged the Man's sleeve. "Hello," he said meekly.

Eardwulf looked taken aback. "Why, greetings. I see you are out already."

"Not very far out," he answered quickly, "just getting some air, we are, thought we'd meet him. He said we might go out somewhere nice tonight, if it was cool enough, and if..." He fidgeted. "If we was good yesterday when that Man put the measuring tape all over us."

"And were you good?" Eardwulf asked.

Gollum fidgeted more intensely. He had not bitten the tailor, but he had not been exactly pleasant at all times. "Perhaps not," he hedged. "We- I tried."

"Yes, you certainly did," said Eardwulf.

"We just thought that if Eardwulf was taking us somewheres," said Gollum, "it would be easier if we met him outside, and if he would not take us- we will go back in. I'm not trying to make him take us anywhere- no- maybe he doesn't want to."

"I see. Sméagol, I am required to chide you for calling the tailor a clumsy stupid oaf, and so I shall; that was rude. You ought not to say such things."

Gollum nodded and hung his head.

Eardwulf crouched down to look him in the eye. "I know you have worried that we think you are a dog. We do not. If you were a dog, you would be free to growl and snap if you were trodden on or stuck with pins. No one would take offense, because no one expects a dog to learn that sometimes he must pretend that he has not been wronged. You are not a dog. You have the shape of a Man in miniature- a Man with a bent back, but a Man. Someone with the shape of a Man is expected to behave like a Man even if he wants to growl and snap- and has the fangs for it."

Gollum stared back at him.

"I know you find this difficult," said Eardwulf. "It is natural for you to resent it when you are treated rudely. I am sure you see no reason why you ought not respond in kind. But if you insult the wrong person at the wrong time in the wrong place, your life can become very difficult and it will not matter if that person earned your insults by treading on your feet, or sticking you with pins, or striking you in the face, or running over you with his horse-cart. You have powerful defenders but the King is not everywhere. I am not everywhere. You do not have protection everywhere. Do you understand me?"

Gollum blinked a few times, and said slowly: "Yes."

"Good," said Eardwulf. "Now, the tailor ought not to make faces of distaste at his customers, and he ought to be careful where he steps when he is dealing with someone who is so close to the ground, and he has no more authority to scold you than you have to scold him, and while I am sure he did not mean to stick pins in you, you have no obligation to pretend to enjoy it. He is lucky that you were not frightened enough to feel you had to defend yourself." Gollum's left hand was braced against the wall, the fingers held in odd, bent positions because his knuckles ached when the weather changed. Eardwulf glanced at this hand ever so briefly and turned away. "I do not expect you to be perfect. No one is perfect. I only expect you to be as good as you can bear to be and to try to learn what I tell you you need to learn. I am satisfied on that account."

Gollum stared at him a minute, then nodded.

"And I do not plan to deprive you of your outing," said Eardwulf. "I had planned to give you time to prepare, but I find you dressed and ready. We can go as soon as you'd like."

"Of course- of course- now, we'll go."

Eardwulf crouched down to pick him up. Gollum shook his head. "We'll walk tonight, precious," he said, "Sméagol doesn't learn his way when people is carrying him about, and he shouldn't keep getting lost, and wandering about like a colt that's been hit on its head until someone comes to fetch him."

"Ah. Indeed, it is better to know your own way," said Eardwulf. "But I will require that you stay close beside me."

"Of course!"

An awkward silence fell. Eardwulf did not seem completely happy with this arrangement. Gollum recalled that Men moved in an unpredictable fashion- their gait was slow, but long- and they did not keep up with Gollum well, as he tended to slow down when he found interesting things Men couldn't see or smell, and speed up when he noticed something of that nature ahead of him. It would be reasonable to fear Gollum getting too far off by himself by accident.

In fact, Gollum feared it himself. "He can take our hand," Gollum suggested. "Then we- I will not go too far."

"Very well," said Eardwulf.

Gollum extended his hand. When Eardwulf reached to take hold of his long white fingers Gollum snatched them back.

"No?" Eardwulf asked.

"Just a little joke," said Gollum, feeling more clammy even than usual. He offered his hand back up, noticing in a detached manner that now it was shaking.

Eardwulf took it gently. "Thank you," he said. "I'll let go at once if you ask. Now, this way."

They headed off together in this fashion. It was not so bad. Gollum set a slow pace, as he frequently wanted to sniff at the ground, and Eardwulf slowed or stopped as soon as he felt a bit of resistance. His grip was light, so much so that a time or two Gollum accidentally pulled his hand away and had to replace it. After that he laced his fingers through Eardwulf's for greater stability.

"Not that way, Sméagol," said Eardwulf, when Gollum turned towards another path. "We are going in the direction you were headed before."

"O very well," said Gollum, turning back. "That is where we lived before, over there."

"Yes, it is."

"We are not going there. We aren't visiting the little orcses?"

"No, but another night we may, if you wish."

"Yes, we'd like to see them. I thought that was where we was going when you said it was special." Either that, or to visit one of the city's fountains, but they weren't going towards the gate either. "There is only one of ye tonight," he realized.

"There is no reason that you must have two to watch you, when you so willingly take my hand. But as it happens there is someone waiting to join us up ahead, I believe. Although we are a little early, so he may not be there."

"I see, I see." He looked up, and Eardwulf must have seen some wariness in his face.

"I promise you will enjoy our destination," he said, "and if you disagree when you find out what it is, you're welcome to decline to go."

"That is alright, then," said Gollum with a false brightness. He yet had a certain contrariness in his nature and this reassurance had left him more wary than before.

Soon he caught a scent of horses. "The stables?" he asked.

"Yes," said Eardwulf. "We are going outside the city- if you agree to it. Not far- within walking distance, if we chose, but I did not think you would care to walk such a way and the cart and horse will be swifter."

As they drew nearer, Gollum spotted Boromir talking to a Man who stood by a horse and cart. He was easy to spot, since at this time of night very few people were around- and also Boromir was quite tall and broad.

"And here you are!" Boromir cried, gesturing with one hand while the other gripped his cane. "Let us away! I am eager to see our expert waterman at work, for I have heard many tales."

"Tales! Tales of what?" Gollum squeaked. The cart-driver eyed him warily.

"We have come to the decision point, Sméagol," said Eardwulf. "This city is very close to the River and I thought you might like to visit it. Will you come along?"

"The River?"

"The River." He paused. "Perhaps I ought to have prepared you more. I wanted it to be a surprise."

"Sméagol will go," said Gollum. He was not at all accustomed to being surprised in this way, and he had not come around to being pleased yet- he did not yet comprehend in full what was happening, but it was better to be agreeable to these things.

"I will help you into the cart," said Eardwulf. "I know you're capable of jumping that distance but I would prefer to help."

"He can helps if he likes," said Gollum, a little surprised- he could jump that high but that didn't mean he wanted to. He scrambled into the Man's big tree-branch arms and did not stir until he had been gently placed into the bottom of the cart and released- then he began to sniff about, trying to guess what this cart had last been used for. He found dust and traces of scent he did not recognize. Some foodstuff, perhaps.

"I have been told- quite firmly- that I need a break," said Boromir. "I do not agree, but your prowess in the water is well known and I wished to see it- that is, if you will allow me along."

I think he's talking to Sméagol, Gollum told himself. "Allow him! He is a Lord." He pulled himself up on the side of the cart to blink over the top of it.

 "If you mean I could command you to allow me along, I could," said Boromir. "But to what end? That would make me a bully."

"Would it? Only to come with us? That is not cruel," said Gollum. "Of course you may come along." He shook his head. "Cruel to come along on a trip?"

"I thought you might prefer to be alone," said Boromir. "I don't wish to presume."

Maybe Sam or someone like that had told him he wasn't wanted at some time or another. Gollum made a dismissive gesture. "Presume, he says. Come and sit with Sméagol."

As it happened, Boromir had also wanted to come along because he wanted to talk to Gollum about their recent trip to the orc-tunnels- that soon became plain, and it was work-talk, not vacation-talk. He explained that he had wanted to have this talk right after the mission but Gollum had been taken away to be treated for his injuries, and then Boromir had become terribly busy.

("How are you faring now?" Boromir wanted to know.

"Sméagol doesn't notice one more dent in his head," Gollum said airily.)

This work-talk was very absorbing and Gollum only half noticed the surroundings they drove through- until he sat bolt upright and said: "We are weaving all around through the walls like a fish!" He was so agitated that he described this motion with one hand, winnowing it back and forth in the air in a manner that must have looked ridiculous even for him.

"The gates?" said Boromir. "Yes! They are offset so that no enemy can run straight through."

"Is that how they built it! Then it's nothing to wonder at that I can't find anything," said Gollum. "They must have all little tricks like that, all tricks so that you can't find where you are if you shouldn't be here."

This Boromir took as an invitation to launch into some other explanations of the defense of the city and how things worked. It was all very impressive, and more than a little overwhelming.

And then they pulled up to where the front gate should be and it was gone. 

"What..." Gollum began, and then trailed off. He had been going to ask what power had been able to do that- Boromir had just been talking about what solid stone the walls were built of- and moreover- what would want to blast a hole in Minas Tirith which looked so harmless and serene in the dark? But he knew what had done it. Mordor. Hadn't there been a big War going on just a few months ago? Hadn't Gollum himself heard orcs nattering on about how they were going to squash this city or that one, and thought to himself that it served the Men right, as they were so haughty and nasty?

Your mistake was thinking you'd seen enough to know what people were like when you spent your whole life hiding away from them, he thought with a shudder.

"Did you not remember?" Boromir asked.

Gollum started guiltily. "Yes, yes, there was a War, a big nasty one, it was!"

"I only meant that you seem to be surprised by the state of the Gate, but you passed by it before, when we went on our errand."

"No, I don't remember," said Gollum. "Did we see it before? I was sleeping when we left... and I don't remember anything coming back, except the Yellow Face gouging my poor eyes out. Sméagol's head was bashed around enough to put him to sleep, maybe we saw it and forgot."

"Perhaps so. This wreckage was wrought in the final battle of Gondor against Mordor. I did not see it happen." His face grew drawn and distant. Gollum couldn't guess just what he was thinking, but even he could guess that it must be unpleasant to see a big hole in the city the big Man was so fond of.

Workmen were swarming about it even at this late hour, improving their temporary barricades and cleaning wreckage. Some of them looked up disinterestedly at the passing of the cart, and some of them then noticed Boromir and looked pleased to see him. Boromir was lost in thought and seemed insensible to anything around him.

The last fighting had been months ago now. They must have been working on this for all that time- so it had looked even worse before.

The cart paused for someone to let them through the barricades, and then rattled out through what was left of the gate, turned off the road and headed along the length of the wall for a while. Then it turned again.

There was a scent of something in the air. Gollum tipped his head back and opened his mouth slightly, taking shallow breaths. Water and reeds...

The cart mounted a low rise and an expanse of water appeared. Gollum pulled himself up on the side of the cart and stared at it. At first in his confusion he thought that these Men of Gondor were so powerful that they had gone and picked up the River and brought it here to indulge the whims of a wicked old creature, and then he noticed that it was not quite the same as his memory, and finally he realized that the River was long and wound close to Minas Tirith. It had always been here, he had thought he had smelled it nearby the city at a few points, even. He would have seen it for himself if he had not decided to take a nap on the way to the orc-tunnels!

"Halt here," Boromir said. The cart stopped. Gollum blinked at the water, and then back at the Men.

"Why did you bring me here?" he asked.

"Because it seemed cruel not to," said Eardwulf, "it is so close."

Gollum could think of no reply, for this made no sense to him. But it struck him as foolish to argue about his good fortune, and he sprung over the side of the cart.

He scrambled for the River and did not slow down until he reached the water. Finally, in the shallows he hesitated- his clothing, now floating around him, was becoming sodden and heavy. Make the best of it? No, because he could leave his things behind and the Men would not let anyone steal them. He stripped to the waist, abandoning the articles in such haste that he didn't notice he'd dropped them in a mud puddle, and splashed his way underwater. At once his misshapen body, returned to the medium that had molded it, took on a strange sort of grace. The chill of the river numbed aching bones and caressed dry skin. For a moment Gollum let the current sweep him down-river, but then he turned and started paddling against it. Otherwise he might have to swim against the current on his way back, instead, after he was already tired out.

He soon encountered a few fish. They were wary of anything new, but not wary enough, being naive River-fish encountering a novel predator, and not underground fish that had learned to take fright at so much as a hint of a pale webbed foot. He grabbed one and brought it to his mouth, biting it behind the head to kill it so it wouldn't flop away, and holding it with his fangs to leave both hands free to swim. He took the fish up onto the bank to eat it.

He was quite spoiled these days, being the King's pet, but fresh fish must not be readily at hand in these parts even for a King, even though the River was so near. Perhaps there was some difficulty related to the ruined Gate and the aftermath of the War, but in any case Gollum didn't get fish very often. When they did give him fish it was nice stuff but not as fresh as fish that had been alive a moment ago. He gurgled and muttered with pleasure over his kill, rambling over such subjects as his pride in his swift hands and iron grip, and the inexplicable kindness of Men, and the taste of fish, and ended with- "-something is watching us, precious."

He picked up his head, blinking.

Boromir and Eardwulf stood by the far bank with their heads furtively held together, watching him and trying not to look as if they were watching him. He could hear that they were speaking to each other, but couldn't make out what they were saying.

Gollum had two thoughts at once, which seemed to be coming from two different parts of himself. The wild creature, now in its native environment and very alert, was enraged by the thought of someone possibly taking away its catch, even though a moment's reflection would make it obvious that neither of the Men would be remotely interested in eating a raw fish that had been halfway eaten already. Meanwhile, the village matriarch's grandson did not want his important new friends to see him with slime all over his face and growling over a shredded piece of flesh- he'd been raised with manners a little better than that.

Both of these problems had the same solution: he slipped back into the water, the fish clamped in his mouth. Men could not see underwater unless it was very clear and certainly not in the dark, and he could swim a long time before he needed to surface for air.

Not as long as he once could- Gollum felt woefully out of shape, and already a little fatigued. Out of practice, he was.

He soon encountered a mound of tall rocks jutting up from the middle of the River, and climbed up onto one of them. This gave him a little more shelter than he had on the bank, for he was flanked by more rubble on each side.

Gollum looked over his half-eaten fish and pulled off a piece of it, which he held under the water while gnawing on the rest. Soon enough a few others came to investigate their brother's entrails. Two of these swiftly found themselves laid out on the rock in front of Gollum.

There was no sign of the Men, and he tucked in happily. Halfway through the second fish Gollum picked up his head as if startled- he was still alone and now he had realized the Men might think he was lost, and be distressed. Gollum was not lost- it was so easy to find his way on the River! All he had to do was follow the current back. But the Men could not know that, all they knew was that they were looking after a silly eel-like thing that got lost often in their city, and they did not know where that thing was. Maybe he should have just put up with them watching him eat.

He tried to content himself with the thought that all would be put right when he returned, and besides it was rude to watch someone eat and it was within his rights to try to get away- although that did not convince him- in much the same way that someone who indulges in a treat to the point of illness sometimes loses all taste for it, Gollum no longer found much satisfaction in trying to justify his actions even on the rare occasions that his reasons were good ones.

But he was still a weak and rather gluttonous creature at heart and too much interested in his fish to abandon his meal for the sake of reassuring a couple of Men who could find him anyway if they kept walking down the bank. They had not said he could not go away from them. They'd encouraged him. Right?

Gollum picked over his food in silence, now too self-conscious to mutter. With his voice stilled, the sounds of running water and singing night insects enveloped him, the sounds of the River, and the scents too. If he closed his eyes he could not tell that it was the southern reach of the river, far far away from his native soil. If he closed his eyes he saw a group of people sitting around a fire, listening raptly to whoever was speaking. If Sméagol went up to the circle around the fire, he could make a place to sit down- as far as he could get from the flames, which he had never trusted, while still being in earshot to hear the story.

They'd let me tell one myself if I makes enough noise, he thought. And they should! I have such stories, I do. About nasty orcs that rush about in hordes and then fall into pieces killing each other over a leftover stub of meat, and frightening Elves with terrible eyes and soaring arrows, and tall Men that stride across the land with legs like tree-trunks and then turn out to be Kings, and hobbits, silly hobbits, mad hobbits, brave hobbits. And a thief... a thief, and a monster.

Something tickled his hand. He looked down and saw a spider scurrying over his knuckles. Gollum let out a shriek and batted the thing away. It must be the kind that ran over the surface of the water- he'd seen (and eaten) enough of them over the years.

He found that he was breathing harshly. It was a harmless little spider that only fed on insects, just as today's Sméagol was a harmless sort of amphibian thing that only caught fish, but there had been another Spider with other prey. He had forgotten that the Men did not know about that and weren't thinking about it when they planned pleasant little surprises for their charge.

He looked around and sniffed the air. He had left the Men alone too long, they would fret. More importantly, he had been alone too long and was starting to think more than he wanted to. Most importantly of all, his fish was all gone. He washed his face and hands, scrubbing them and scrubbing them until they took on a hint of color, and drank deeply of the cold fresh water, and then dove off of the rock.

He swam a little way, letting the current carry him, and then decided that he was too full of fish to enjoy any more swimming even if it was lazy swimming. He drifted onto the bank and began picking his way back through the reeds instead, wading in knee-and-elbow-deep water, and feeling heavy and slow now that he had to drag his body through thin, unhelpful air.

Reeds... Merry had asked about making a boat out of reeds. These were the right type. Perhaps he would pick some, once he'd found the Men. Sméagol had been a deft hand at boat-making once. A deft hand at boat-"borrowing", too, but he crafted his own often enough. There was not always one of the kind he wanted available to "borrow" when he wanted it, after all.

There was no sound or scent of Men. What if they planned to leave him here? Suppose they had been watching him fish because they wanted to be sure he could feed himself before they left him? He did not think they had seemed to want him gone, what with all of the care and expense they'd poured into making him comfortable, giving him a new room and all of that, but he could not shake the idea.

Just when he was beginning to seriously work himself into a panic along these lines he saw Boromir up ahead, sitting on a rock, and splashed up to him.

"There you are!" Boromir cried.

"And here is Boromir," said Gollum, crouching at his feet and blinking up at him. "You've left Sméagol all alone, you have."

"Left you alone? You have left me quite alone," said Boromir.

"Sorry, sorry! Won't do it again, no never, nice Sméagol will stay close." And he would. He didn't want to worry that they'd walked away without him again.

"As long as you know your way back, you may range as far as you wish. But I do not want you to think I abandoned you." Boromir looked somewhat drawn and distracted. For a moment Gollum thought he had been unduly worried over this- but Boromir wasn't looking at him. He was staring at the water.

"What is the matter?" Gollum asked politely.

"I apologize-"

"No need, no need! But do answer," said Gollum. "Sméagol doesn't ask questions he doesn't want answers to."

"The sounds of the River remind me of the day I broke our Fellowship," said Boromir.

"Yes, it sounds and smells like the River up north, by the mountains, too." Now Gollum was staring at the water.

"This River bore me to safety when I was nearly dead. It bore, too, the broken Horn of Gondor to my father, and so began the unwinding of his mind. Sometimes I feel that the River is alive."

"We thought it was alive, sometimes, in the willow-lands, long ago. But it must not be, after all, because if it was alive it would not allow me anymore- it saw what I had done, but it fed me, and carried me about, and kept me safe, and washed me, when no one else would have ever done it, and it led me to the lake it made under the mountain, which looked after me for such a long time; but then perhaps the River does not care what Sméagol is- what would a River care?"

"Or perhaps," said Boromir, "you have some right to the River, being of its people, and it will not deny you, as Gondor will not deny me even after my failures."

"Perhaps! Or perhaps the River thinks it is funny to let us cause problems. It does not have to solve our problems! But why would Gondor not let you in? You are nice, and friendly, and peoples likes you, and you did not kill anybody who didn't deserve it, gollum."

Boromir shook his head. "I do not think they quite understand," he said. "They have heard that I was meant to guard the Ring-bearer to his mission- and though they love the Ring-bearer dearly and we know now that he was successful, yet there are those who will say to me that I could not have known he would succeed. That the mission looked doomed to failure, and that my father had commanded that I bring the Ring here, and that my duty is ever foremost to Gondor- in short, I have spoken to those who believed I made a simple mistake, or even that I did nothing wrong at all. But you- you know better, I should hope."

"Eh- Sméagol knows better? About what Boromir did?"

"You know the voice of the Ring!"

"I hear it," said Gollum, "when I say anything. Yes. I know better?"

Boromir said nothing.

"A riddle, it is," Gollum said. "It is- I was- it was sounding like Boromir, I suppose, you would not have heard Sméagol. You'd never heard him before. You wouldn't have listened to him. You heard Boromir, perhaps, or even Denethor... saying the hobbit was stupid and wouldn't use the Precious properly and it was yours, yours, yours! Wasn't it yours? You could make a different promise if you had it. You could do anything if you had it again, and nobody would step on you or hurt you, or- or for you, no one steps on you. You are too tall! So- maybe it was someone else, eh? Yes, maybe it said, 'you can keep that person safe and everyone else too, only you must take it, it is yours, and he- he has stolen it! You are the heir, not him. He's nothing.' So after it was through- you think you did not really want to take it for Gondor, perhaps, but because it made you want it, however it could- is that what it did? So you thinks you was just selfish, in the end- eh? And that's why you thinks no one would like you if they really knew?"

Boromir put his hand over his face.

"So that is it!" said Gollum. "It said things that made you feel small and nasty after you listened, did it? But- you said no, didn't you? The Master is alive and he seems well enough. You didn't take it. Because, you knocked him over, and he looked up at you and he was afraid, and you didn't say, well he was always mean to me and it's my birthday. Or, well he is only a hobbit and Men is more important. And you didn't chase him down and squeeze him, and you didn't tell other peoples that it should have been yours and pretend you didn't do anything wrong. Because you knew you was bigger and he had a bad leg and it was wrong and it would always be wrong. It could trick you, but only a little while. It didn't make you kill."

"For a time I thought you better than I," said Boromir.

Gollum leaned back and squinted at him. "How?"

"Before we met I heard your tale, and I thought you must be stronger than I to resist the Ring at such a time."

"He does not still think so." Gollum's heart was racing, as if he'd scented an orc or an Elf. "After all, he's seen us now."

"I have realized that making comparisons of that kind is... unhelpful. Perhaps even evil. What was it you said? 'He is only a hobbit and Men is more important'? That is the kind of thing I do not want to think, about any person or any type of person. I have a strength that is my own, and you have a strength that is yours, and mine is needful at some times, and yours is needful at other times."

 Gollum looked down at the pool he was standing half-submerged in. Gleaming eyes glinted off of the surface of the water. He swirled the water with his finger, and the gleam became a dizzying spinning sparkle. "Sméagol's a wicked thing, he is," he said. "He wanted to take the poor hobbits to the Spider. The poor hobbits."

Boromir said nothing, and with a whimper, Gollum continued: "I, I didn't want to anymore. But I planned it. I planned it! At the last I tried to take them another way, but it was too late, I did not know another way that was far enough and safe enough. I took them through another tunnel, but I had already told Her I was coming to bring her a tidbit, and when we came out the other end She had heard us and was waiting. Sss! She was supposed to stay where she was and let me fetch them to Her. If She had, it would have all worked out, She should have stayed where she was. Nassty thing! And what a wicked thing I am! Boromir is better. He mustn't think he is like Sméagol. I am not- strong- I have never been, I- I am not."

Boromir continued to say nothing, until Gollum started to cry and it became obvious he was done talking. Then Boromir said: "Is that so. It was known that you must have some understanding with the monster, as you lived under the cave, but this is the first I'm hearing of a plan, or that you could communicate with it. And you speak of it with a reverence I did not expect."

Gollum's voice was a whispering hiss, like reeds brushing against each other in the wind, but his words were clear over the rush of water, and horribly distinct: "She was as big as the world, darker than darkness. She took away Sun and Moon, and her sstench was stronger than death. But Sam. He struck Her."

"That he did."

"I saw it, I was hiding," said Gollum. "And I said, 'that fat little hobbit is stronger than Her. Then he is more than I thought, and She is much less'; and then I tried to go to them, but She wanted my head then. I ran away and got losst for a while, and I thought the orcs had the hobbits and the Precious, I expected to be taken to Him and killed. Not so. Not so. Sam is stronger than orcs, too. He would have killed me at once if I'd raised a hand to him."

"Likely so," said Boromir. "His love for Frodo gave him an incredible strength and I am sure if you had attacked them it would have been your death."

"I would have deserved it, too. He knew what I was as soon as he saw me." He paused. "They knew we lived with Her, eh?"

"Samwise guessed it, for the tunnel you led him through had a distinctive- quality."

"O, he thought it stank and had slime all over it, that's what," said Gollum. "I, everyone knows all of my secrets now, I cannot hide anything any more, and it frightens me. I am not used to being seen and what is here to see is not nice, not nice at all. It is as if they sees into our head!"

"You voice your thoughts aloud often," said Boromir.

"We have told you our nastiest secret."

"Do you feel that is your worst deed?"

"Perhaps," said Gollum. "O, yes, I knows no one died, but the Master was hurt- and, and I knew what I was doing then. I knew he had been kind to me and I was leading him to a bad death, all to get something back that I stole. I know there have been worse things, but- I don't remember them the same way as other things, it is- strange. Like- these." He pointed to the rocks at the bottom of the shallows he stood in. "Wobbly, and sometimes there is mud or something nastier floating over it so that you can't see it. But I know I knew better, I did, when it was the Spider- when it was the nice master, who was kind to poor Sméagol when everyone hated him, and with Déagol, when I still had a hobbit's face... such horrible things. Sam and the master did not do anything so horrible. Or Baggins. Bilbo. He was nicer than he ought. What is wrong with us that is not wrong in them?"

"I know not what the difference is. My brother had the same opportunity I did, and did not do what I tried to do."

"Sam had it a while," said Gollum. "He picked it up because he thought the poor Master was dead. But later he gave it back- just gave it back."

"I have asked Mithrandir, and he said he does not know, himself, where this flaw in us lies- but that the wise and strong are as prone to fall as the weak are, and that he, himself, feared the voice of the Ring."

The night insects sang cheerfully, ignorant of such things as Rings, though perhaps not ignorant of Spiders.

"You called yourself wicked. I do not think you wicked," said Boromir. "Perhaps you were once, but not now. You look to me as one wounded, near unto death, and I have had a taste of that wound. It was the briefest taste, but it was enough to ruin me."

"He does not look ruined," said Gollum, nonplussed. "If Sméagol is not wicked Boromir is not ruined!"

Boromir was at least twice Gollum's size- that is why they calls us Halfling, it is, he thought- and he was pretty for a Man, he had such nice hair, and broad shoulders. He looked like he could twist the head off of one of Sam's oliphaunts. And yet he had fallen, too, thought not as far.

Gollum sighed, which made him cough a little, although he had been getting better since being moved to the cellar room. He must have had too much exercise. "Ach," he said aloud. "Well, it is gone, now." He looked up at Boromir. "I threw the nasty thing away, so it can't do anything to Boromir anymore, and everyone can want it as much as they likes to but there will be no more fighting over it because it is lost now. And it cannot make anyone else kill anybody. And He is gone, too, so He cannot make another!"

Standing there in the clean air with beautiful, wholesome cold water flowing over his hands and feet, Gollum could almost feel for a moment that he had purely hated the Ring and was glad it was gone. Almost.

"Yes! It is gone, and its foul maker is gone," said Boromir. "It is well for the mercy of Bilbo! He would have destroyed something precious if he had swung that sword on that long ago day. Do not protest that Frodo guided you and you have earned nothing! I, for one, am grateful to you. You have helped me more than you know, Sméagol. And much of that help was given without any assistance from anyone."

"O, well- that is good!" He must mean with all of the talk about orcs and scouting. Gollum supposed he would be still called on for more such work in future. Everyone seemed too busy for him most of the time these days.

Boromir was sizing him up. "I would like to help you, in return."

"That is nice of him, it is, but- we do not need helps just now," said Gollum, a little confused. "We have eaten and drunk and had a bath already." He gestured to the River. "And the clothes we brought don't have little finicky buttonses or slippery ties anywhere, so we won't need help putting them back on."

"I was referring to a different sort of help. I hear that you are not certain of your welcome in Minas Tirith for the long term- is that right?"

"Yes- something like that..."

"And no amount of reassurances will persuade you that you do not need to earn your keep," said Boromir. "The King pardoned me, as well, for my evil deed. And I too was not satisfied, nothing anyone could say to me would convince me that I had been forgiven. For in my heart, I did not believe I deserved forgiveness, and I mistrusted the kindness of others. I could not be content with receiving no punishment at all. And moreso, I could not be content with hiding my deed. I worried that it would be found out. I worried more that it would not be found out. In the end I demanded a public hearing like a common criminal, and for my sin to be known to Gondor."

"What did he do that for? What did the King do?" Gollum cried in alarm.

"He," said Boromir, "pardoned me again, in front of a great crowd, with the Ring-bearer there to vouch for me, and now I am forced to contend with it. But my conscience is lighter since. Though not eased- not entirely- even when soothed by the frank words of Halflings who desire that I 'stop moping' and join them in the simple pleasures of life. Yet it is bearable."

Gollum nodded. "So Boromir is better now, that is good," he said politely. "And- was anyone nasty?"

"There are some," said Boromir, "who were deeply disappointed in me- and others who think better of me than before because they think I showed strength of character by confessing. I am not sure who has the better opinion but I care less what they think than I did before my hearing, because their opinions are now based on the truth instead of a well-meaning lie, and the truth cannot be changed. But perhaps this is a talk for another time. You look weary."

"Weary, yes," he said. "We have been swimming. It's a nice place, it is, but we will go back now if they wishes it."

"This trip is for you," said Boromir, "so we will not depart until you want to go."

"Sméagol wants sleeps."

"You do not wish to sleep here, then?"

Gollum looked around. "No," he said. "Just visit, and then go home and sleeps." If he tried to sleep here he would dream of his family. 

"I ask because I was told that at one time you seemed to have difficulty sleeping in a bed."

"We gets used to things."

Eardwulf was standing on the other side of the River. Gollum sat up. "There he is!"

Eardwulf bowed politely. Boromir beckoned to him, and Eardwulf went around to a nearby footbridge to cross. He soon appeared and said: "It was plain that you were deep in conversation, and I did not wish to interrupt."

"Indeed," said Boromir, "I thank you, but we have concluded our business."

"I heard none of your conversation, my lord."

"It was not secret, so it does not matter."

"Ah. I heard some of it."

Boromir gestured to Gollum. "Perhaps you heard that our guest of honor wishes to return to his room for a rest- do you have any objections?"

"Of course not," said Eardwulf. "Shall I carry you back to the cart, Sméagol?"

"Sméagol is soaking wet," Gollum pointed out. "He'll come along nicely, don't need to pick him up."

"Ah. Then come along, please."

The three moved back towards the cart, going slowly, because Gollum was setting the pace and he did not care to move quickly. Eventually he sat down.

"I am quite willing to carry you even if you're soaking wet," said Eardwulf. "I anticipated that such would be your condition when you returned."

By way of answer, Gollum pawed at the Man's knees and looked pleadingly up at him. Eardwulf picked him up.

"You seem quite content," Eardwulf said.

"Nice River."

"I thought it might be difficult to get you to leave."

"Too tired for swimming. May we come back sometime?"

"Of course," said Eardwulf. "You see how close it is."

Gollum looked back at the River, and then in the other direction, at the walls of the city. He looked over at Boromir, whose eyes were fixed in the direction of the broken gate. Nasty orcs, he thought, breaking our gate. They shouldn't just come in and break things. Now everyone has to fix it even at night when Men likes to be sleeping!

He looked back at the walls of the city.

“I don’t want to leave,” Gollum admitted.

"Should I set you down?" Eardwulf asked.

"No- no, I don't want to leave- that," said Gollum, pointing at Minas Tirith. 

Boromir started, and turned to him. “No? Good,” he said. “Then- I shall help you see to it that you do not have to.”

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